The directors gonna need his medication when he hears demvares lame exaggerations therell be trouble
"Adkins, I heard you wanted a little chat with me. Who would've thought the head of the FBI would be bestest buddies with some big ol' scary crime boss, eh?" "Shut it. We are not friends, I'm here to interrogate you." "Right, keep telling yourself that. Is that why I showed up of my own will after yet another failed extraction attempt on my living quarters?" "Besides the point, Vare." "Of course. What did you call me over for then, Adkins?" "You're a... you have many talents. Of all the things, why did you choose to make an organization rather than go alone, if you wanted to be a criminal so bad?" "Why I opened the doors to my madhouse?" He snickers and puts his feet up on the desk. "I could do a lot of things myself, but more people help me do it better. Plenty of your men know that firsthand, otherwise they'd be lying six feet under or in a ditch somewhere, wouldn't they?" "And why did you decide to choose the wrong side of the law?" "What, you think I could even be bothered to somewhat try patience on the right side?" He pulls his legs down, propping his head up in his hands, elbows on the desk. "It's so boring over there, having to be a lackey for someone who thinks he's special. Someone who never even goes out past his little desky-wesky all day, then pretends like he's some father figure to the people he's telling to actively risk their lives fighting some futile cause." The director clenches his fist under his desk, gently laying his hand back down on his leg. "I'm sure you would've been far more than a lapdog, Vare." "Well, then you'll just have to keep re-assuring yourself that, Adkins. I didn't wanna switch then, I don't now, and I ain't. Simple as that." "And if I were to sweeten the deal?" "There's no deal sweet enough that doesn't involve doubling the national debt, Adkins. I've got plenty of stores to hit, money to launder, shiny things to snatch. The world is a treasure trove, and I'm just using my handy key to open the chest. If they really don't deserve to be robbed or knocked over, then I wouldn't be able to rob them or knock them over." "They are good people, they don't deserve to live under your thumb." He grits his teeth, scraping out words. "Oh, of course. They deserve to live under yours." He peers under the desk. "Though.. too many more sweets and they'll be living under your gut, Adkins." He snickers, the director jolting out of his chair, pointing a pistol straight at the godfather's chest. "I should've taken this shot a long time ago." "Try it, Addy. See what happens." A loud bang echoes throughout the offices, the smoke clears and the director looks down at the damage dealt - absolutely nothing. "Can you see what happened? Oh, no you can't. Because nothing happened." "I- did you unload my gun?" "Look in the barrel and find out." He scowls and unloads the magazine, looking at it and seeing all the bullets intact and ready to be fired. "How did you.." "You're acting like this is an anomaly, Adkins. You've tried this at least half a dozen times before, and your temper just gets the better of you that easily and you try again, forgetting the other plenty of times you've tried to put me down here. Eventually I might get bored and put ''you ''down, Addy." He looks back on, ballistic and reloads the gun, firing the rest of the magazine into the godfather's chest, once again leaving not a mark. "This is getting boring, Adkins. And I just told you what'll happen when I get too bored of your antics. I'd recommend cutting it out and trying something new soon, for your own safety." He stands up and walks towards the doorway out of the office. "Vare, hold it for a second." "What is it now?" "What.. what in God's name are you?" He hesitates for a moment, then grins at the director with a toothy grin. "That'd ruin the mystery, wouldn't it?" He opens the door and steps out, the director chasing him through, only to find an empty hallway. "Vare, where did- damnit!" "Sir, what are you screaming about?" Another man, holding a mountain of boxes in his arms pokes his head out from behind, looking at the director. "That damned- he was just here!" "Who was?" "Vare, that damn crime boss!" "..Sir I stepped into this hallway just as your office door opened and I haven't seen anyone besides you, and they would've had to go past me to leave the building." The director looks down, steps back into his office and shuts the door. He sits back down at his desk and grabs a photo of the grinning godfather. "What in the nine Hells are you.." The godfather shoves the parlor doors open. "Well, that was boring." "Director again?" "Yep. This time he's asking about why I am where I am, and all about how-" He puts on a mocking tone. "I should be on the 'right side of the law' and how I'm being such a dissident!" "Sounds like he's got a stick twelve yards up his ass." "You guys should be thankful you don't have to meet with that short-fused joke of a director. He'd be better off directing a movie than a federal bureau, even if his only job was to try and take us down, he'd still be screwing it up." He smiles, sitting down in a seat across from the young man who hasn't looked up, still polishing his Thompson rifle. "When can I just go there myself? It sounds like I'd have a great time." "When I get bored of him, then I'll let you and your girlfriend go level the place." He smirks. "Yeah, yeah." The young lad rolls his eyes, but still doesn't remove them from sight of his gun. "It's taking too long." "I don't get bored terribly easy when it involves the director, he's a funny character. Tried to shoot me again, this time with a full magazine, though." "Handgun?" "Handgun. I don't think they let him carry anything heavier, despite his position." "Ridiculous. Nothing wrong with letting people having one of their choice, is there?" He picks up his Thompson, leaving an eye open and glancing down its ironsights around the room. The godfather chuckles and kicks his feet up on the table. "Of course not, who would ever commit a violent crime with one?" The one across from him chuckles, setting the gun to his side. "I couldn't think of a single person, could you?" "Not a chance."